


like the earth is trying to swallow you whole

by rolie_polie



Series: my mind is an ecosystem (and it's all burning down) [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bulimia, Bulimia Nervosa, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Like very minor, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Nishinoya deserves a thousand hugs, Pining, Self-Hatred, Shame & Guilt, Suicidal Thoughts, Swearing, Tanaka's an idiot but he's trying his best, a death is mentioned and discussed, follow up to 'like the world is trying to spit you out', jus a lil bit of pining, no seriously im in rarepair hell please join me, rarepair hell, this story does not have romantic payoff in it sry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29770284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rolie_polie/pseuds/rolie_polie
Summary: After he tells the team, everything is different. He wishes he never said anything at all.or,Nishinoya Yuu has an eating disorder. He doesn't want to talk about it.
Relationships: Azumane Asahi & Nishinoya Yuu, Nishinoya Yuu & Takeda Ittetsu, Nishinoya Yuu & Tanaka Ryuunosuke, Nishinoya Yuu/Tanaka Ryuunosuke
Series: my mind is an ecosystem (and it's all burning down) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2187831
Comments: 11
Kudos: 43





	like the earth is trying to swallow you whole

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warning: Depiction and discussion of eating disorders, discussions of death and suicidal thoughts. I tried to minimize graphic content but please read only if you're comfortable.
> 
> Note that this is a follow-up to "like the world is trying to spit you out." Reading it isn't necessary to understand this story, but might provide better context.

This isn’t exactly how Yuu planned to tell the team.

Scratch that, actually. He never had any intention of telling them. Not ever. He’s an open book by nature, overshares his thoughts and feelings to a fault, but _this_. This is _his_ thing. It _belongs_ to him. He didn’t want to tell anybody. Not even Tanaka. Not even Asahi.

But then, Hinata fucking Shouyou happened. In all of his intense, blazing glory, the first year stomped his way into the gym and tore himself open for everybody to see after almost two months of dodging practice. And he just looked so scared, and so lonely, and really it’s only natural that an upperclassman such as Yuu would jump in to try and make everything okay. He did it for _Hinata_. He didn’t do it for the stone-cold, horrified look on Tanaka’s face, or the helpless sadness on Asahi’s, or the sympathy and warmth of the rest of the team. His friends.

This thing, was Yuu’s thing. And he wishes, now, that he’d taken just one more moment to consider the implications of shouting, literally shouting, that he has a fucking eating disorder, to the people he feels closest with. In the only place where he feels just a little safer from the storm.

Goddamn Hinata. Stupid Hinata. Silly, dumb, ridiculous, incredible Hinata.

He repeats it in his head, a mantra of half-hearted anger, for the rest of practice, then through clean up, then as he’s changing, and when he exits the change room to find his best friend planted outside the door waiting for him. Brilliant.

“Yuu!” Tanaka calls after him as he turns to walk away. Follows him.

Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant.

“’Sup?” Yuu says.

They fall into step, and Yuu wrings his hands together, staring off at the horizon. He feels unsettled and it’s all he can do not to panic. Because Tanaka knows. His best friend knows. Because _he_ admitted it. He admitted it, and now Yuu is desperately wishing that Tanaka would pick up on his discomfort and just leave it alone, because he is so not ready to face the music right now.

“You, uh…” Tanaka laughs, but it’s an uncomfortable laugh, “so, you… have an eating disorder. Like an actual eating disorder?”

Yuu wants to die.

“Yep,” he answers. Dry. Disinterested.

_We’re not talking about this._

_We’re not talking about this._

_We’re not talking about this._

“You never told me,” Tanaka says.

And for fuck’s sake, he sounds _wounded_. He sounds like a boy with hurt feelings, and the pinch of guilt in Yuu’s gut and chest and arms and legs, and really it’s more of a huge, crushing _mallet_ of guilt, is really not something he has the patience for. The time for. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid. He feels bad enough already. Is it even fair to call it an eating disorder? It’s not like a doctor’s ever diagnosed him. That would require talking to his _parents_ , and, oh God, that thought sends Yuu’s stomach lurching. As if they would be able to understand.

“It’s nothing personal,” Yuu grumbles, “I just don’t talk about it. I wasn’t even planning to say it today. I didn’t even mean to! I just- did.”

He keeps walking. He feels Tanaka stop, but he doesn’t. On a normal day, Yuu would stop. But today is not a normal day. Today is not an ice cream after practice, complaining about schoolwork, sharing memes, gushing over Kiyoko when really you’re pining for your best friend, kind of day.

“Yuu,” Tanaka’s voice is low and dark and gravely serious, and Yuu hates it, “people die from eating disorders.”

That’s what stops Yuu in his tracks. It’s true. He knows it is. And he knows that Tanaka isn’t trying to hurt him, or scare him, or punish him. That’s not what Tanaka does. But what he knows isn’t necessarily the same as what he feels. He looks back at his best friend, and his expression is blank.

“I know,” he says.

“So, what, you just… you’re fine with that? That this thing could kill you? Is that… do you _want_ to die, Yuu?” even as he says it, Tanaka seems to choke on his own words.

The idea, the mere implication, that Nishinoya Yuu, would ever _wish_ for death, is alien. He’s a firecracker. He’s thunder. He’s energy barely contained by a human vessel. Death isn’t the kind of thing that a person like him would wish for. It couldn’t be.

Yuu averts his gaze and shrugs.

“Sometimes,” he admits, “but mine won’t kill me, Ryu.”

For a moment, there’s silence. Yuu clings to that moment, wishes for it to remain, for Tanaka to just accept his words and move on. Nothing is happening. Nothing is wrong. He is okay. He is always okay. This conversation doesn’t need to happen. _We don’t need to talk about this._

Then, he finally chances a look at his friend, and ice shoots down his spine. Tanaka’s eyes look black, and he’s gritting his teeth and glaring. He’s _smouldering_. At Yuu. He’s angry, actually angry, at Yuu. And really, it shouldn’t be a surprise. He basically just admitted to having a bit of a death wish, as if it were just another Friday night and they were discussing what movie to watch or which flavour of ice cream to get. But this, all of this, is wrong. Yuu doesn’t want this conversation, he doesn’t want anyone to know, and why can’t he just go back to a few hours ago, when everything was fine and nobody knew and Tanaka was smiling at him without a care?

"Bullshit,” Tanaka hisses, “bullshit, it won’t kill you! Even if it takes years, _it can kill you!_ And you’re- you’re saying you’re fine with that? That it’s what you _want?_ Since when? Since fucking when are you this fucked up?”

“Ryu-”

“And how did I never notice, Yuu? You eat around me all the time! Isn’t eating, like, fucking terrifying for people with anorexia?”

“Ryu, it’s not-”

“No, just shut up, okay? You’ve had this eating disorder for _God_ knows how long, you’ve been lying to me about it, and now you’re just, like, fine with it if it kills you?”

“I wasn’t lying! I was-”

“Yes, you were. You acted like you were fine. You were lying,” Tanaka seethes.

Yuu can feel his heart pounding, climbing up his throat and nestling in. He feels heat all over, searing the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks, and his skin is crawling. His fingers are trembling. His knees are weak. Tanaka isn’t just mad, he’s furious, and whether he truly means everything he’s saying or he’s in the heat of the moment, it hurts just the same. This wasn’t what Yuu was afraid of, but he realizes it’s what he should have been afraid of. This is worse than the worst case scenario. This is alarm bells going off in his brain and static and nausea, losing control, and he’s terrified.

_We’re not talking about this._

_We don’t have to talk about this._

Tanaka scoffs, “whatever. If you’re so set on planning your own funeral, go the fuck ahead. I’m not stickin’ around for it.”

In Yuu’s head, he has the perfect reply. He says just the right thing, and just like that, all is forgiven, and they’re back to schoolwork and memes. In Yuu’s head, as Tanaka turns around and walks away from him, he calls out. Calls him back. _Explains_. Makes him understand. In Yuu’s head, Tanaka does understand. He doesn’t even have to explain, because the reality is, he isn’t sure he could if he tried. Tanaka just gets it, and everything stays the same.

But that’s in Yuu’s head. In the world around him, Tanaka’s already disappeared out of sight, and he’s standing frozen in the middle of the road, and he wonders if it’s starting to rain because his face feels wet, and he tastes salt, and his lips have gone numb, and he’s clenching his jaw.

Oh.

It’s not raining.

He sniffs wetly, body aching, and recalculates his route. He’s going to Sakanoshita Market.

_I didn’t want to talk about it._

* * *

After that, everything kind of shifts.

Yuu is good at keeping up appearances. It’s kind of like a superpower, how he can slap on a grin with ease, goof off with his peers, and push the storm out of his mind just long enough to appear okay. He’s become an expert at ignoring his body trying to tell him that he’s in pain.

But the thing about being good at all of that, is that he always has reasons to be. With his admission, and with Tanaka hanging him out to dry, those reasons dwindle. Nothing about his demeanour changes, not outwardly, not at first. The big thing, the most important thing, about convincing the people around him that he’s okay, is convincing himself that he’s okay, too. And for a long time, Yuu’s been deceptively good at that.

Not so much anymore.

He never bothered to picture what a life without Tanaka would look like. Whenever the thought crossed his mind, for the briefest of moments, he assumed it would be years before they went their separate ways. And maybe it’s dramatic to say that their friendship is over, but it’s been three days, and Tanaka can barely look at him. Given everything, that feels pretty damn over to Yuu.

It’s not like they’ve never fought. There are always petty spats, intense debates and squabbles. But it’s never been like this before. It’s usually something small, something silly, something that lasts twenty minutes, maybe a day. The unspoken rule of their friendship is that nothing ever changes them. They always go back to normal. Nothing is ever more important than that. Yuu was really hoping that the rule applied here, too. He still kind of does.

But three days is a long time in his world. It’s like he’s going through a Tanaka detox, and it fucking sucks.

The backs of his eyes are throbbing. His whole body is swollen with an ache, a desire to reach out, to be the one to wait outside the changing room and just _fix this_. When Yuu pictures himself doing that, he imagines having all the right words, getting pissed off because _what kind of friend fucks off the second things get tough?_ Tanaka apologizes, and they talk about it, and then it goes away and they’re okay. It almost makes him feel better. But he can’t predict Tanaka’s behaviour, can’t control it, and Yuu prefers the not knowing to being told he’s not worth the effort.

So, yeah, convincing himself that he’s okay is damn near out of the question.

The best he can do is plaster on a smile and make it through. It’s fine if he seems a bit down. He’s not performing any less in volleyball, and really, that’s the most important thing. They’re a team, so of course that matters more than losing his best friend. Losing his best friend is a feeling best saved for late at night, alone in his bedroom, with chocolate and ice cream and chips and leftover curry and sticks of cheese. It’s not a problem. He’s dealing with it. He’ll bounce back from this. Eventually, his teammates will forget about his admission, and he’ll be able to talk to Tanaka without choking up, and they’ll play volleyball, and he can go back to normal.

He’s not always as good at hiding his emotions as he thinks he is, though.

“Noya? Are you okay?”

He’s tossing the ball back and forth with the gymnasium wall. Each toss is a little more aggressive, a little more forceful.

What’s he eaten today? _Smack._ What time is it? _Smack._ Maybe supper time has already passed. _Smack._ Maybe if he takes the long way home, he can say he ate with Tanaka. _Smack._ He’s pretty sure he can skip Sakanoshita today. _Smack_. Maybe he should stop going there so much, Ukai always eyes him a little suspiciously, and now that he knows, it might be too obvious. _Smack_.

“Noya… everyone’s gone. We need to lock up. Are you okay? Noya, are you listening to me?”

Before his head can catch up to his body, Yuu spins on his heel and whips the ball as hard as he can. It doesn’t hit Asahi, doesn’t even graze him, thank god. The sound of it cracking against the waxed floors reverberates through the gym.

Asahi’s eyes are wide. He’s the perfect image of a deer caught in headlights. If Yuu wasn’t so damn tired, and so damn pissed off, and so damn _hungry_ , he’d probably look about the same. But instead, he’s sure he looks like something a bit more wild, more angry. He feels like he’s losing it. He needs to go home. He needs to eat.

“Noya,” Asahi breathes, “what’s wrong?”

Not again. Not again.

_I’m not sticking around._

Yuu sucks in a long breath. Pushes the urge to scream deep down into his belly, out of sight.

“Nothing. I’m fine, Asahi, don’t worry,” he assures his friend.

“But- you don’t look well,” Asahi presses.

And, god, Yuu wishes he could bury himself deep underground and never come up. He can’t do this again. He can’t have another one of these conversations, and Asahi is far less brazen and hard-headed than Tanaka, but that doesn’t mean it’ll go any better. The look on his face and the compassion in his eyes and the twitch of his hands, like he wants to reach out and touch Yuu, just makes the libero want to run faster, harder, as far as he can. It’s a false security. Even if Asahi cares, even if Asahi is kind, even if Asahi wants to help, underneath it all he’s disappointed. Disappointed to find out that Yuu isn’t strong, the way he always makes himself out to be. And maybe Tanaka’s right. Maybe he really is a liar.

“I’m just tired. Practicing too hard, probably. I’ll get some rest and I’ll be fine, okay?” he says. He’s basically begging.

“Okay… but are you sure? You and Tanaka seem distant.”

Yuu scowls.

“I told you, I’m fine! Fuck, Asahi, just leave me alone! I’m not having this conversation with you, I am _okay_. Believe me or don’t, I don’t care, just leave me the fuck alone,” he snaps.

As Yuu stomps his way out of the gym, he feels a heaviness in his chest. It’s cold, and it hurts, but the guilt isn’t quite enough to overwhelm his anger. Or his hunger. He doesn’t waste his time thinking up apologies or fantasies where everything’s okay. He needs to go home. He needs to eat.

* * *

A week goes by. They have a practice match with Aoba Johsai, and they lose.

Yuu chokes back his furious tears in favour of cheering up his teammates. He doesn’t smile at them, even when they smile at him.

He fumbled his receives one too many times. The whole match is a blur of dizziness and cold sweat. He was cold. He was too busy being _cold_ to stay focused, so he messed everything up. He messed it all up, and he’s going to mess up their chances of ever winning a real game and making it to nationals if he can’t stop being so self-absorbed.

A dark, mean bruise is blooming just below his elbow. Yuu digs his fingers into it for the entire bus ride home. He doesn’t meet his teammates’ eyes, and he doesn’t see Tanaka watching him.

There’s a dozen steamed cakes waiting for him at home. Yuu will be fine.

He’s okay.

In the morning, his throat burns.

* * *

It goes on like this for a while. Yuu knows he’s starting to lose his composure, and lately he is sucking at being the impressive, talented libero he’s always prided himself as. Even Tsukishima, who’s hailed as the most passive, snarky, shrug-it-off guy on the team, asks him if something’s up. Yuu manages not to snap at him, and that’s what a good day is now. Keeping his cool long enough to get through practice. Avoiding Asahi and barely looking at Tanaka. Ignoring the looks Takeda and Ukai are giving him.

He’s improved his performance since the practice match. He’s catching up. That’s what matters – maybe he doesn’t have to be a cheerful firework to be a good teammate. As long as he shows up, tries, and doesn’t snap at anyone, he’s doing okay.

Really, it’s his own fault things are deteriorating. Yuu is the one who decided to let the storm enmesh itself with his happy place. All he can do now is dig some poles into the ground and pray his tiny little tent of calm doesn’t come tumbling down. He doesn’t have to smile to do that. He doesn’t have to yell, not that he really can lately, and he doesn’t have to laugh. He just has to stay calm.

But then, he stays in the gym just a little bit too long after practice. He goes to get changed just a little too late, and everyone is leaving already, and now he’s alone with Tanaka. Their eyes don’t meet, and neither says a word, but they’re alone together. Yuu’s hair stands on end.

_Say something._

_Talk to me._

_Let’s fix this. I’m tired. I’m mad at you. I need you around._

_Say something._

It occurs to him that they haven’t been on their own together since their fight. Or, really, since Tanaka lost it on him and didn’t give him a chance to get a word in. And now here they are, and Yuu is changing, and he is hyperaware of every inch of bare skin as he strips out of his jersey. He wants to scream when he struggles to get his t-shirt on, because now he’s standing exposed for longer, and he hates that. He can’t bear to glance at Tanaka, terrified that his friend, or whatever, is looking at him. Is seeing him.

It’s not like he’s emaciated. Yuu has seen images of what a severe case of anorexia, or bulimia, or both, can do to a body. He doesn’t look like that at all. He’s not that sick. But he knows that he’s ugly, and he’s bruised, and he has patches of skin that are rough and scaling, and he doesn’t want anyone to see that. Especially not Tanaka.

He manages to get his t-shirt on, then his pants, then his coat, and he makes a beeline for the door. Tanaka still hasn’t said a word. Part of Yuu is willing to accept that, but as he approaches the door and begins to turn the handle, anger strikes him, a slap in the face of unbearable rage. How is this fair? Why does Tanaka get to give him the silent treatment? Why does he get to lose his shit, walk away from Yuu, essentially cutting him off entirely, and then just be _fine?_ Yuu’s impulse is to turn and scream, or walk right up to Tanaka and punch his stupid face. It would feel nice to punch him, he thinks. Show him just how fucking angry Yuu is with him. But instead, Yuu opens the door. Just walk away, don’t make things worse, don’t look at him. He turns anyway, and is nearly frozen in place when he sees his best friend looking right back at him. Yuu clutches the door just a bit tighter.

“I don’t have anorexia,” he tells him, “that’s all I was trying to say before.”

And then he leaves, and it’s truly a testament to the kind of rift something like this can put between people, because as he walks down the stairs and around the building towards the road, Yuu can feel himself trembling from head to toe. He was never afraid of Tanaka before. He was never afraid of what he might say, what he might do, how he might see Yuu. And now he is.

Yuu decides to sit down.

And then he decides to stay there for a while, curled up on the pavement with his back to the wall, staring at the sky. Clouds obscure the moon and stars. Fluorescent lamps are all that illuminate the world around him. He wonders what Tanaka might have said if he waited for a reply before leaving. Was that an opportunity to fix it? Are they damaged irreparably, now, because Yuu is too afraid to be alone in a room with Tanaka, to hear him speak again? Was that his last chance? Maybe that’s why Tanaka was watching him. Maybe this was a “ball’s in your court” thing, and Yuu just royally messed it up.

He scoffs. Whatever. Messing up is his identity at this point.

“Nishinoya? What are you still doing here?”

Unwillingly, Yuu is ripped from his thoughts, and he looks up to see Takeda standing next to him, bag slung over his shoulder and car keys in hand. Fucking great. Again?

Yuu shrugs, looking away, and says, “didn’t feel like going home yet.”

Beside him, he hears some shuffling and a grunt, and then Takeda is sat on the pavement beside him, arms slung over his knees. He’s looking at Yuu, and Yuu is looking at the sky. He’s so sick of these conversations. So sick of the questions. Now, he does want to go home. He needs a shower and something to soothe his throat. Quiet. Solitude. Something sweet. A lot of sweets.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I have something I’d like to share with you, if you’ll listen,” Takeda says.

It’s not quite what he was expecting. Yuu shrugs, and then gives a dull nod. It’s confirmation enough for Takeda. He takes his eyes off of Yuu, and the libero is grateful to no longer be watched.

“When I was in high school, my best friend, Keiko, developed an eating disorder. She had something that’s called atypical anorexia nowadays,” Takeda starts, “it took us a very long time to realize anything was happening to her, because she wasn’t losing much weight. And she was very good at explaining her behaviour to us. She wanted to be a model, so she could explain small or skipped lunches as dieting, and if she didn’t eat at school events or study sessions, well, that was just because there was nothing she could eat there. And if we tried to accommodate this diet, she would say she already ate.”

Yuu threads his fingers together and squeezes. This is definitely not what he was expecting.

“I look back now, and it’s really obvious to me that she was sick. But at the time, it wasn’t obvious. Not to mention, back then, we only just barely had the words to explain what an eating disorder was. We didn’t truly understand what it meant. So, when I got a call in my third year that she was hospitalized, I was completely shocked. I went to the hospital, and they had her in a room with a feeding tube. Apparently, she fainted while trying to walk down the stairs.

The first thing I remember feeling when I saw her like that was angry. I was incredibly angry. She told me that day that she’d been dealing with this for almost five years, and she never told anybody about it. Of course I was angry. Keiko was my best friend, and she forced herself to do something alone that she never should have had to.”

Takeda stops then for a moment, huffing a breath through his nose. This is hard for him. His voice is wavering slightly, and Yuu feels terrible to see his teacher like this. He isn’t sure what to do. He looks up at Takeda.

“Is she- is she okay now?” he asks, voice meek and hoarse.

A bitter smile. Oh, god.

“She died a week after being admitted to the hospital,” Takeda says, “sudden cardiac death. Her heart just gave up. One second, here was my best friend, incredible and talented and funny, with immense potential. And suddenly, she was sick, had been for years right under our noses, and then she was gone. Her death was the worst day of my life.”

Yuu’s lip trembles, and he whips his head away, stares at a fixed point on the horizon. Digs his nails into his knees. He doesn’t have a right to cry for his teacher’s loss, he thinks. This isn’t about him. This is about Takeda. Takeda lost someone, Yuu didn’t. Yuu is not allowed to cry.

Takeda continues, voice gentle, “I was angry with Keiko for a very long time. I had to grieve her, while simultaneously being furious at her. And after a couple of years, I realized that it wasn’t Keiko I was angry with. Some part of my anger, sure, but the majority of it was at this illness. It stole her. She loved life, and she loved dancing, and science fiction, and spicy food, and her favourite holiday was Valentine’s day. She baked for her friends during finals because she just wanted to see them smile. And then this illness took over her life, and stole her. It was deeply, deeply unfair, and deeply painful.”

Yuu looks at Takeda out of the corner of his eye. His teacher’s expression is soft. His eyes look wet, but he isn’t crying, and his voice has steadied. And he isn’t fidgeting. He’s comfortable talking about this. It hurts him, but it isn’t killing him. Yuu wants to hit himself for feeling like _he’s_ going to die.

“I’m sorry you lost her,” he murmurs.

“Thank you. I’m not- it’s…” Takeda sighs, tilting his head up, watching the clouds roll by, “I realize this probably sounds like a lecture. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I have no doubt you feel enough guilt as it is, and what you shared was incredibly personal, and very brave. What I’m trying to say, is that I haven’t got a clue what you’re going through, but I know what it feels like to be the best friend. I still light a candle for Keiko whenever she crosses my mind. I agonize about the fact that she never got to see graduation, or be a mother, which she wanted so desperately. She wanted to be a mother more than she wanted to be in love. If she never found a partner, she would’ve adopted a baby all on her own, I’m certain of that.”

Takeda lets out a chuckle, and Yuu smiles, snickering dryly alongside of him. He’s not sure he feels good about the direction of this conversation, but Takeda is warm. He’s always been a force of calm, kindness, joy. It’s a punch in the gut to find out that he’s been through such an unimaginable loss. But, in a way, it makes Yuu feel a little safer. Maybe he can trust Takeda. Maybe Takeda is one of those people who can just _get it_. Maybe Yuu doesn’t have to explain himself.

The silence that falls over them only lasts a few moments, but it’s the first quiet minute he’s shared with someone in a while where Yuu’s skin doesn’t crawl.

“Nishinoya, I know I’m a bit old and out-of-touch, but I do notice things. It’s kind of my job, as an educator, to notice things. Ever since you told us about your eating disorder, you and Tanaka have been ice cold towards one another. I can see that you’re struggling, and I can see that you’re tired. You’re probably the most rambunctious person on the team, and right now, I barely ever see you smile. I’m worried about you. I’m worried that you’re choosing to face this alone when you don’t have to,” Takeda says.

Yuu prickles at that, digging his nails deeper into his knees and grimacing. What is he supposed to say to that? His head is filled with so many words, and his heart is begging him to say them, but the sunken, angry feeling in his gut tells him that he can’t. Is he choosing to be alone with this storm? No, no, this was forced on him. He didn’t ask to be alone. He just is. There’s no choice here. Tanaka’s the one who walked away. Yuu didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t ask for things to play out this way.

“I’m doing fine,” he says. It’s a bold-faced lie, and they both know it, “thanks, Take-chan.”

“…As your teacher, I have to tell you that I’m technically obligated to let your parents know what you shared.”

At that, Yuu begins to panic. He turns to Takeda, ready to shout and plead with him not to say a word. Because Yuu is fine. Yuu is okay. His parents don’t need to know, they _can’t_ know, they won’t be able to understand and it will _kill_ them, and everything will become so much harder, so much worse. Before he can get a word out, though, Takeda places a hand on his arm to settle him.

“But I’ve been in this position long enough to know that telling the parents doesn’t always solve the problem. I don’t want to take that choice away from you if I don’t absolutely have to. And, Nishinoya, I believe that you’re strong enough to ask for help. I believe that you’re strong enough to know when _it’s time_ to ask for help.” He explains himself, calm, steady, firm, “I need something from you, though. If I am leaving it to you, I need something.”

If it means he can keep his secret for longer, Yuu will do anything. He nods, staring at Takeda with wide, nervous eyes.

“I need you to promise me that when that time comes, when you can feel in your gut that it’s time, you will listen to that feeling. Even if the first person you go to isn’t one of your parents. Even if it’s one of your friends, or me, or even if you want to take yourself straight to a doctor. I need you to promise that when that moment comes, you won’t ignore it. At the first sign that you might be ready, please, listen. Promise?” He holds out his pinky.

And for a moment, Yuu isn’t sure what to do. He can’t make a promise if he doesn’t mean it. He can’t lie to Takeda. He respects Takeda, appreciates him, and he does so even more now that the teacher has taken so much time out of his night just to sit with Yuu – to talk to him, to share something so painful and personal, just to try and connect with his student. But if he doesn’t make that promise, if he can’t, he knows Takeda will feel that he has no other choice but to talk to his parents. So, he looks down at Takeda’s out-stretched pinky, and he asks himself, can he do it? _Will_ he know when it’s time to ask for help? What if that time has already come and gone, and he missed it, and now it’s too late? Does that mean he’s broken his promise before even making it?

For the first time, Yuu thinks back to that moment in the gymnasium. That moment between when everything was okay, except for this one little secret, and when everything was different. He’s never thought of it as anything other than a mistake. He’s never looked at that moment, truly looked at it, and remembered what he felt as he was proclaiming to all of his teammates and friends that he has this illness. What did it even feel like?

Relief.

That one, in-between moment, before everything changed. It felt like relief.

Yuu reaches out and links his pinky with Takeda’s.

“Promise,” he says.

* * *

Takeda gives him a ride home.

Yuu thinks that maybe he’d like to be inspired by their conversation. Maybe tonight, he can be good, and he can take his shower and do his homework and go to bed. Maybe for tonight, he can behave like any normal teenager.

He throws up in the shower.

* * *

Yuu misses Tanaka.

It’s one thing to have feelings for your best friend that you can’t act on while they’re still around and everything is good. It’s suffocating and challenging and sometimes it hurts, but it’s an acceptable level of pain. A five on a ten-point scale, seven on a tough day. But to have them ripped out of your life, to watch them walk away without a second thought, to see them every day in school and at practice and sometimes on the walk home, and be _ignored_. That’s an eleven. It’s a consistent, daily eleven. Yuu can’t stand it.

He picks his phone up off his desk in a moment of weakness, and types too fast for his rationality to catch up and tell him to stop.

**10:58 PM – Yuu: so like r u just gonna hate me forever then.**

Before he can even put his phone down and run a panic loop around his bedroom, it chimes.

**10:59 PM – Ryu: i don’t hate u.**

**11:02 PM – Ryu: i just don’t know if i can deal w this.**

**11:02 PM – Ryu: i don’t get it.**

Yuu isn’t sure what he was hoping for. Nothing truly important ever gets solved over text anyway. But it’s easier to talk to Tanaka that way. Not being able to see his face, hear his voice, look at his eyes. It removes some of the risk. It doesn’t feel as immediate. The damage that might be caused doesn’t feel as real. He knows he shouldn’t reply, there’s no point. He’s resigned himself to the belief that this isn’t fixable.

**11:06 PM – Yuu: no shit u don’t get it, you didn’t even give me a chance to explain. judt forget it, this was stupid.**

Tossing his phone on his bed, Yuu knocks his knuckles against his forehead. Once. Twice. Four. Six. Stupid idea. Stupid idea. He’s such an idiot. Why did he do that? Things are bad enough, and now he’s provoking Tanaka to become more angry, more narrow-minded, less willing to accept Yuu as his friend again.

Fuck.

Yuu just wants his friend back. Forget his stupid, mushy _feelings_. He just wants his _friend_.

He doesn’t know what to do. The walls are closing in on him, the ceiling is falling, his head is pounding, and Tanaka Ryuunosuke hates him. That’s the only reasonable conclusion. The only explanation for why he feels this way is because his best friend hates his fucking guts. He lied to Yuu. He _does_ hate him. Yuu used to be someone fearless, strong, dependable, trustworthy. And now he’s just someone who’s sick and weak and a liar.

And he’s so hungry.

Furiously, Yuu rips the bottom drawer of his desk open. He pulls out whatever food he can find, and thinks that by the time he’s done, he’s going to need to go buy more. Ravenous is the only right word to describe him as he tears at the food. Jerky, cookies, candy, chocolate. He eats all of it, sitting right in front of his desk, staring blankly as he shovels chips into his mouth. He’s not going to cry. He doesn’t want to cry, he isn’t allowed. He just needs to keep eating. If he keeps eating, he’ll feel better, he’s sure he will. Maybe he can sneak downstairs and cook something. Yuu considers it, but he’s cemented down, and all he can do is chew. His jaw locks, but he keeps chewing. His stomach begins to lurch and ache, but he keeps chewing. Eventually, he stops tasting. Everything is an indiscernible mix of flavours in his mouth, and his teeth throb, sensitive. The inside of his cheek stings. He bit it. He guzzles some water. And then he continues.

* * *

The relief that washes over Yuu when he throws up is short-lived. For a moment, it feels good to get everything out. He ate so much he could barely drag himself to the bathroom. All he wants is to get it out, and go lie down. Just like always.

It’s when he stands up to rinse his mouth that the relief fades. He never looks in the mirror when he does this. He looks in mirrors all the time, constantly. But the one rule is that he doesn’t look in the mirror when he does this. When he first started doing this, he’d look in the mirror, and the disdain he felt for himself was so overwhelming that he’d repeat the cycle almost immediately. Sometimes, he does that anyway. But he tries not to look in the mirror now.

Only, tonight, he looks. He catches a glimpse of himself, and then he can’t look away. There he is.

His hair is down, mostly dry from showering earlier. There are some stray crumbs on his shirt. There he is.

His cheeks are swollen. His eyes look empty, dark circles nestled beneath them, his skin is pale. The backs of his wrists and hands are a bright red, the skin flaking. His collarbones peek out from underneath his shirt. Yuu runs his fingers along them.

_That’s me,_ he thinks.

Yuu is good at ignoring pain, dealing with it. But in this moment, everything around him is so still, and he is so caged inside of this body, and all of the sensations are too noticeable to ignore. The unbearable burn in his throat, the acid in his mouth, the ache in his knees, the cold, how his skin hurts everywhere that it’s red and dry and scaled, how the space just between his eyes is pounding, a hand inside of his skull punching him from the inside out.

_Sudden cardiac death._

_Is that where I’m going?_

His breathing is erratic. So is his heartbeat. Yuu closes his eyes – presses his left hand to his chest, and slides the right through his hair. He grasps, and pulls. Make something else ache. Wake up. Come back. Everything is okay, and he is fine.

He stands there, waiting for this moment to pass. Waiting until he can breathe again, until his heart settles, until the words _sudden cardiac death_ stop racing through his mind over and over again. Eventually, it does pass. He lets his hands fall to his sides, and releases a long sigh. There’s something coarse in Yuu’s right hand. Brow furrowed, he opens his eyes and looks down.

It’s a clump of his hair.

Yuu stares at it. He looks back to the mirror.

Nothing is okay. He is not fine.

* * *

In the morning, Yuu trudges his way into the kitchen. He barely slept a wink, terrified he’d lose the nerve and hounded by _sudden cardiac death_. Before his parents can even greet him, Yuu wraps his arms around his mother. He’s terrified to open his mouth, to say what he needs to say, but he knows he needs to say it. He hugs her tightly. She hugs him back, surprised, but welcoming the affection.

“Mom,” he whispers, and his voice is thick with mucus and hoarse from vomiting, “I need you to take me to the doctor… I, uh, something is- is really, really wrong with me.”

She grows tense underneath his grip. She couldn’t figure it out, couldn’t put the pieces together, but she knew something wasn’t right. Mothers always know.

She just wishes that she was wrong this time.

* * *

Yuu doesn’t return to school until the following day. During morning practice, he feels boneless, raw, stripped down and naked. He didn’t bother to wash his clothes or gel his hair. Nobody is really looking at him when it isn’t necessary, except for Tanaka now and then, but Yuu is certain he can feel eyes from every direction. Boring into him. They can read him. They can see right through him, into his soul, where everything is a twisty, static-filled, thundering mess. Maybe it’s because his parents are watching him like hawks since he came clean and he can’t shake the feeling. Or maybe it’s true. Maybe everyone is watching him, and he’s just become too slow to catch it when it occurs.

Except they’re not, because they have the spring high preliminaries coming up, and that’s all anyone can focus on. Except for Yuu. Yuu can’t focus, because he knows what he has to tell them, and he doesn’t want to. Through every second of morning practice, he’s begging the universe to just _throw him a bone here_ and make things different. Change his parents’ minds, or his doctor’s mind, or, like, magically make this bullshit eating disorder and all of his pain go away. Hell, he’d take an unexpected hug at this point. But he needs something. Yuu needs something to anchor him down, because he feels his mind floating away as he tries to stay grounded, tries to participate.

One more normal day. That’s all he wants.

But, he supposes, it’s hard to have a normal day when you know that it’s the last one you get. Everything is going to change. Nothing can be normal anymore.

So, for the rest of the day, Yuu is a ghost. He exists, but he isn’t there. His mind is far away. His mind is in Tokyo. His stomach is unsettled. All he wants to do is eat until his brain turns off. But he can’t even do that now.

He goes to afternoon practice late, doesn’t change, and clutches in his hand a note. A stupid, fucking note. Yuu grinds his teeth together, wishes he could sink into the floor and avoid this. But as much as he wants to run away, he knows he needs to do this, and that he’ll regret it if he doesn’t.

The team is playing a practice match together, and they’re so focused that nobody notices him. Yuu shuffles up to Takeda, and pokes him gently in the arm. His teacher looks down at him and smiles.

“Nishinoya, what’s up? You’re not in uniform?” he says.

Yuu shakes his head. He pushes the note at Takeda and averts his gaze.

“I was supposed to give you this this morning. I didn’t want to yet,” he explains, watching with trepidation as Takeda’s eyes scan the note. His expression becomes something unreadable. Yuu clears his throat, and fuck, that hurts, "I… um, I have to make an announcement. Can I?”

Takeda nods, patting Yuu’s shoulder. He looks at the team. With a soft sigh, Takeda nudges Ukai and gestures for him to blow the whistle. Ukai does.

“Everyone,” Takeda says, “if we could have your attention for a moment. Go ahead, Nishinoya.”

And fuck. Oh, fuck, everybody is looking at him. He realizes he didn’t even consider what he was going to say, and now here he is, and everyone’s looking at him, waiting for him to say something. Yuu is sweating, his hands feel clammy and his knees are weak. He shivers. He has to say something.

“I… uh, I. I won’t be able to participate in the preliminaries this year,” he starts, “and um… there’s a chance that I- that I won’t be able to participate in volleyball at all, for the rest of the year.”

“What?” Hinata shouts. His eyes are bulging from his head, “Noya-senpai, why not? Why aren’t you coming?”

Hearing Hinata call him that reminds Yuu that they haven’t really spoken lately. He hasn’t been present. Hasn’t been here, he’s always somewhere else, even when he is here. And as he thinks that, he realizes that he probably owes Asahi an apology. And is he really going to leave without talking to Tanaka?

“A while ago… we talked about mental illnesses, remember? And I told you guys that I have an, um, an eating disorder, remember?” Some of his teammates nod, “well I, I told my parents. And, uh, it turns out that I have- um- it’s called Bulimia Nervosa, I don’t know if all of you know what that is. It’s- it’s different from Anorexia, which is kind of the first thing that I think people think of when an eating disorder is mentioned, but, uh, I don’t- I don’t really want to explain it, if that’s okay. You guys can just, look it up or something.”

He can’t seem to stop talking. The dam’s wide open now.

“Anyway, it’s getting kind of bad. I’m- uh- starting to lose some of my hair, so,” he clears his throat once more. No crying, “it’s not good right now. And if I keep- keep playing volleyball, while I’m this malnourished, I guess it could… it’s really dangerous, I guess. So… my doctor suggested this treatment centre in Tokyo, and I meet the criteria, so my parents are making me go. Or I’m- I’m just going. For at least a month, maybe- maybe longer.”

“Noya…” Asahi starts. He wants to say something. He doesn’t know what.

Yuu can’t meet their eyes. Any of them. He grits his teeth, blinks hard. No crying.

“I, uh. I didn’t want to talk about it. I hid it really well, for a really long time. And it just, um, I felt like I couldn’t talk about it because I was really ashamed. Like, my life is so good,” he laughs bitterly, “and I feel so terrible, and that’s- how is that fair? Uh, and then, Hinata, you told us about your panic disorder, and I- aha- I thought you looked kind of lonely, and I figured that, hey, he should know he’s not alone. But I… I’ve been forcing myself to be alone. And I think that I,” he takes a trembling breath, “I need to go learn how to not do that anymore.”

He finally takes a peek at his teammates. And if nothing else, none of them look angry. Not one. Some of them are smiling at him, some are frowning, Hinata looks like he’s on the verge of bursting into tears, and Kageyama is patting him on the head. But nobody looks mad. And Yuu doesn’t let himself look at Tanaka. He doesn’t want to risk it.

“Anyway. That’s all I had to say,” he fiddles with the hem of his shirt, “I’ll give Take-chan the address of the place I’m going if- if you guys want to come visit, or send letters, or something like that.”

And he hates that he feels like there’s no way any of them will want to do that. They’re his _friends_. Shouldn’t they want to do that? Why does Yuu feel so guilty for the mere suggestion that they might?

He feels like he should say more. Like he needs to say more. He’s leaving in the middle, nothing is finished, and he doesn’t want to go yet. But when he tries to open his mouth, nothing more comes out. He doesn’t want to say goodbye to them.

And Takeda is gracious and kind, because he sees Yuu floundering and takes over, saying, “alright, if anyone needs a minute to process, go ahead. But let’s keep going, okay?”

The playing is much more half-hearted now, but the team listens to Takeda and continues their game, and Yuu lets out a long breath. He knows he can’t hold it any longer. He’s been holding it for too long. So he leaves.

And it’s when he wanders around to the side of the gymnasium that Yuu finally, finally, _finally_ breaks. Bending to a crouch, hand over his mouth, the other clutching his stomach, every ounce of frustration, anger, shame, and agony explodes out of him. The tears come fast, too damn fast, his vision blurring into nothing but greyscale shapes – the pavement, the gymnasium wall, the radiator, gravel – and Yuu _weeps_. It’s been a long time since he’s allowed himself to cry like this. He’s cried, sure, but it’s always a lazy swell of tears, coming and going in the span of minutes, releasing just that little bit of extra emotion he can’t quite contain. Right now, this time, every fragile piece of himself that he’s been holding together, clinging onto like cracking glass, is breaking apart. His heart is fluttering, his throat aches, his eyelashes are soaked. A part of Yuu thinks maybe he can’t survive this level of anguish. Maybe his heart is already too weak, and if he allows himself to keep on crying, he’ll have a fucking heart attack and that’ll be it for him. But it’s too late. He’s letting it out, and he can’t stop. He doesn’t really want to anyway.

He ends up on his knees, doubled over, tears warbling off his cheeks and onto the cement. He’s pretty sure he’s being loud, louder than he would be if he was in any kind of control over himself right now. Hopefully the sound of squeaking shoes and volleyballs and shouting covers it up. Hopefully the windows are closed.

“Yuu.”

He gasps. Fuck. Fuck. He can’t stop. It isn’t stopping, he’s wiping his face, trying to breathe, trying to compose himself. It just won’t stop. Yuu just keeps fucking everything up, and now he’s fucking up again by being too damn hysterical to say a word to Tanaka.

But, it turns out, Tanaka doesn’t really care. Yuu feels hands on his shoulders, pressure on sore, knotted muscles, and then he’s being pulled. Gentle. And Tanaka is sitting down, and Yuu’s head is in his lap. This is humiliating. It’s humiliating how quickly he folds into his friend, how his hand clings to the skin of Tanaka’s leg, how he can’t settle himself enough to say the things he actually wanted to say. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to let himself be angry. But instead, he’s desperate, willing to be held in spite of everything. It’s pathetic.

“I can’t stop,” his voice comes out as a whine, and it’s thick and it’s gross, “sorry- I can’t- I can’t stop fucking- crying.”

“It’s fine,” Tanaka says softly, “nothing I haven’t seen before.”

And it’s true. They’ve regularly seen each other cry. But never like this. Never so laden with helplessness. They’re always frustrated tears, angry tears, end-of-the-sad-movie tears, tears of joy. This is different. This is scary.

“I don’t wanna go,” Yuu complains.

Tanaka places a hand on Yuu’s arm, rubs soothingly, “I don’t want you to go, either. But you- you’re sick. And you have to go get better.”

Yuu sniffles, wiping his eyes. He’s still crying. But Tanaka is warm, and he’s being kind right now, and his hand on Yuu feels good. It’s enough to at least settle him into hiccups, the lazy swell, sticky-faced and exhausted to the bone. No more weeping. He’s made it into the eye of the storm for now. So, Yuu pushes himself to sit up, plops his head on Tanaka’s shoulder, stares blearily at their feet. Tanaka slides an arm around him.

“Ryu,” he says, and his voice is practically a squeak, “I’m so- fucking mad at you.”

By this point, Yuu expects that his words will make Tanaka tense. Maybe he’ll get pissed off again, maybe he’ll yell, maybe he’s just being nice because Yuu is so pathetic, and now that he’s calm, Tanaka is going to walk away. The fatigue of letting everything out prevents the fear from instilling itself, though, so Yuu doesn’t see any need to filter himself. And Tanaka, to his mild surprise, doesn’t tense, doesn’t get mad. He squeezes Yuu a little closer to him instead.

“I know. I came to apologize,” he explains.

Yuu clenches his jaw, “okay. Then do it.”

“I’m sorry,” Tanaka says, “I freaked out. And you were right, I didn’t give you a chance to explain. I just- I panicked. I felt hurt that you never said anything to me before that day. I thought maybe you didn’t trust me. And then you said that sometimes you wish it would kill you, and I just panicked even harder. And then I didn’t know how to talk to you, because I freaked out. And what I said to you, about your funeral, was really cruel and mean. I just- as soon as you said that, I got this story in my head that your death was the only possible ending. In my brain, it was like you had already died. Which was fucked up. So then I thought maybe I should wait for you to come to me and it might not be fair if I tried to get you to talk to me after saying something like that. But that probably wasn’t the right thing to do. I should have just apologized instead of waiting. So, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I said, and I’m sorry that I left you alone. All of that was wrong, and I know it didn’t help at all, and I’m also sorry that I haven’t been helpful. I’m just- I’m really- I’m so-”

“Okay,” Yuu places a hand on Tanaka’s knee, stopping him. He almost laughs, “I got it. I got it. Thank you.”

When Tanaka stops, nods briskly, Yuu gives his knee a pat before pulling his hand back into his own lap. This is good. This is something. Maybe everything isn’t ruined yet. Maybe fixing them is possible.

“I trust you more than anyone, you know,” Yuu says, “I mean that’s- a little damaged now, but. It’s true. It was never about trusting you. It was more- I didn’t, I _don’t_ trust myself. To be right, when I assume that nobody will judge me or be mad at me. So then I assume the worst. And even though I know, in my heart, that you’re trustworthy, my brain just wouldn’t let me- wouldn’t let me tell you. I wanted to. But I felt like I couldn’t, and then eventually I stopped wanting to. And then it just came out, and I wasn’t ready. I still don’t really know how to explain it, Ryu. I just… feel really awful about myself. And everything feels like a mess all the time, but this… it makes me feel better. And then it makes me feel worse. And, yeah, sometimes I feel like dying would be better than dealing with this. But I… I don’t want to die. I just can’t stand it, it’s too much.”

He exhales. A knot in his gut begins to unwind, and he looks up at Tanaka. Tanaka’s chin is quivering, and his eyes are wet.

“How long? How long has this been going on, Yuu?” he asks in a whisper.

Well, it’s not like he can lie about it. He doesn’t want to, “Two years, on and off. Since around the end of our last year of middle school.”

Apparently, it’s Tanaka’s turn to cry now. He shuts his eyes with a frustrated grunt, and some sneaky tears squeeze their way out.

“That’s not- that’s not fair,” he croaks, “you’re the best person in the universe! What the fuck! That’s not fair!”

Yuu watches as his friend wipes his eyes, willing the tears to stop, and his cheeks flush. Best person in the universe? How is he supposed to take that? Nobody’s ever said something that kind to him before. It’s far too high of a compliment, and Yuu has no idea what to say in response to it, nor does he know how to even begin to console Tanaka. He can’t say that it’s okay, because it’s not. Nothing really is. Everything kind of sucks. There’s no way to make it not suck right now.

“No,” he finally says, “it’s not fair.”

“Can I,” Tanaka clears his throat, blinks away the last of his tears, “can I come with you? When your parents take you to Tokyo? Just to… just to say goodbye.”

Yuu bumps their heads together, gently.

“Sure.”

* * *

They leave early, just as the sun is beginning to rise. Yuu is tuned out for most of the drive there, but acutely aware of Tanaka seated beside him. He’s still kind of pissed, and he knows it might be a while before that fully goes away, but more than anything, he’s grateful to have his best friend back. To have a chance to say goodbye to him, and to know that he’ll still be there when Yuu goes home. He hopes that day comes sooner rather than later, but he knows better than to have expectations. He knows how this disorder has ravaged his brain, and picking those pieces up might be too great of a challenge for just one month.

When they arrive, there’s a tour. He meets a few of the other kids for a brief moment. They’re shown his room, which he’s sharing with another boy. They lay out the rules, explain visitation days and times, supervised leaves, the structure of his days, phone calls, emergencies. Yuu barely hears any of it, but Tanaka is listening intently. More than Yuu has ever seen him focus in any of their classes. He snickers under his breath at that thought. They take his cell phone, pat him down. And then it’s time to say goodbye, and Yuu feels his heart pounding in his chest, his throat, his ears. He isn’t ready. He doesn’t want to.

It’s kind of like he’s floating, while his parents hug and kiss him, teary-eyed, telling him to call whenever he can and that they’ll visit as soon as possible. He thinks about his siblings. He wonders what his parents are going to tell them. Just barely manages to smile at them as they pull away. Whispers a goodbye before they head back to the car. Yuu looks up at Tanaka. His stomach is dancing, frogs hopping around inside. He’s shivering.

“You’ll be okay,” Tanaka assures him.

Yuu wrings his hands.

“I might not get better,” he murmurs, “what if I don’t get better?”

“I’ll help you. Whenever you need my help, I’ll help you.”

“I’m not your responsibility, Ryu. You don’t have to do that,” Yuu protests.

“You’re my best friend. I know I can’t fix it, but I can help you. That _is_ my responsibility. And if it means that you’ll be able to beat this thing, I’m happy to do it. You just tell me what you need, when you need, and I’m there. I promise. Okay?” Tanaka says.

And, right. That’s right. This is his best friend. Nothing has changed, not between them. This moment, that’s part of what that means. It means Tanaka is there. That he’ll stay there. Yuu can depend on him, and if he wants to heal, he has to trust that he can. He wants to. Yuu nods.

“I think I might need a hug,” he says.

So Tanaka hugs him. Yuu wraps his arms tight around Tanaka’s neck, pushing himself up onto his tip toes. He breathes it in. Tanaka’s hands on his back, his arms warm, his grip aware of Yuu’s weakness but not catering to it or being too careful of it. It hurts, that this may be the last hug he gets for a while. But it’s a good hug, a nourishing hug, and when it ends, Yuu feels just a little bit better.

“You’ll visit?” he asks.

“You bet,” Tanaka nods.

“And you’ll keep everyone updated?”

“Of course. They’ll probably want to come visit you, too. I bet Hinata will blubber like a baby the next time he sees you.”

They share a laugh. It’s a bit strained, but it’s good.

“Tell them they’re welcome to, if they want. I don’t want to feel all cut off,” Yuu says.

Tanaka gives another brisk nod.

“Well… I guess… bye.”

“I’ll see you soon, Yuu,” Tanaka promises.

Yuu watches as Tanaka walks back to the car to meet his parents. After this, they’ll drive back to Miyagi. Tanaka will return to school. The volleyball team will continue to practice. They’ll go to the preliminaries, and they might win, or they might lose, but they have to do it without him. They’ll get ice cream, and they’ll study together, and they’ll squabble and joke and have fun. And maybe they’ll talk about Yuu. Maybe they’ll miss him.

Tanaka turns back, and he grins at Yuu. Big, bright, hopeful.

Yes, that’s right. They’re going to miss him. And he’s going to miss them.

Until he comes home again.

**Author's Note:**

> I've reread this one too many times and have convinced myself it's not very good, but I am hoping that that's just me being my own worst critic, and hopefully you liked it. Thank you for reading!


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